I'm a writer, mostly of speculative fiction, living in rural Tasmania. I've got a rural GP wife and three small kids, and I keep a running commentary of life here so that when my kids are old enough to give a shit, they can read up and discover who their parents used to be.
I tried doing this on paper, but I sucked at it. So I tried doing it online with an audience. It worked.
May contain adult language and concepts. Deal with it.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Like today. Natalie got a package. It was a silk sweater she'd ordered off eBay. Nice bit of goods, really - lovely colour, big, comfortable, and warm. Just what you need at the gateway to another Tasmanian winter.

The person shipping it was really thoughtful. They even stuck in this little potpourri thing -- a little package of petals and leaves scented with something like lavender. It was a shiny, satiny sort of potpourri, done up with a purple ribbon, and from the moment she saw it, the Mau-Mau WANTED it.

Natalie didn't mind. What the hell was she going to do with a potpourri anyway. So she handed it over to the Mau-Mau, who immediately forgave her for receiving a package that wasn't actually for the Mau-Mau herself, and cooed happily. Then she sniffed it, and said something about how nice it smelled.

Natalie agreed. Then the Mau-Mau wanted to know what it was.

"It's a potpourri," said Natalie. "It's to make your clothes smell nice. You can go and stick it in with your undies and they'll smell lovely."

A look of happy comprehension dawned on the Mau-Mau's face. In one smooth move, she yanked up her skirt, pulled the elastic of her pink undies forward, and jammed the potpourri down the front.

Natalie collapsed, rendered completely useless by laughter. It remained for me to explain that the potpourri would work better in the Mau-Mau's underwear drawer...